


Azareth S'Thul

by Nerevarguar



Series: The Rose Heart: Character Bios [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls I: Arena, Elder Scrolls II: Daggerfall, Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Elder Scrolls Online, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, The Elder Scrolls: Legends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 13:57:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21339361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nerevarguar/pseuds/Nerevarguar
Series: The Rose Heart: Character Bios [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1538332





	Azareth S'Thul

Azareth S’Thul

~*~

Race  
Dunmer

Gender  
Male

Age  
122 at the beginning of our journey

Date of Birth  
4th Rain’s Hand 3E 354

Sign  
At the moment of his birth, though the stars shone bright overhead, none shone on him to give him their blessing.

Place of Birth  
Hla Oad, Vvardenfell, Morrowind

Height  
6’1 (1.85m)

Physical Build  
Slim but strong. Age has made him somewhat frail. Notable that he is missing toes on both of his feet.

Class  
Nightblade  
Nightblades are spellcasters who use their magics to enhance mobility, concealment, and stealthy close combat. They have a sinister reputation, since many nightblades are thieves, enforcers, assassins, or covert agents.

Specialization  
Magic

Primary Attributes  
Willpower and Speed

Major Skills  
Mysticism, Illusion, Alteration, Sneak and Short Blade

Minor Skills  
Light Armored, Unarmored, Destruction, Marksman and Security

~*~

Appearance  
This tall Dunmeri man prefers to keep his grey skinned face hidden behind a netch leather helmet. To the few he bears his countenance to, they see an aged man, with sallow grey skin and tired eyes. His eyes are red and glassy, his nose long and hooked and his hair, shaved on one side, but long, dark and lank on the other. Under his left eye he bears two long red lines, tattoos from a time long past, their ink blurred with the passing of time and the aging of his skin. 

Religion  
It is hard to say if Azareth truly follows a religion, for his devotion lies in the research of the divine beings, the Et’Ada and Magna Ge. His passion and curiosity drove him to travel Tamriel for answers, chasing shreds of whispers of traces of these beings that breathed life into the world.  
Because of his fascination with the Magna Ge, Azareth also has a particular interest with the Daedric Prince, Meridia.

Personality  
Aloof, paranoid but kindhearted are some ways to describe Azareth. He is a complex man for he has seen many years, and knows there is often times not a simple answer to a complicated question. He chooses to go the easy route and use his illusion skill to coerce others, instead of simply talking to them. He finds solace in little, save for his research in astrology and the Et’Ada and his relationship with Elyzara later in life.  
Though he may appear bitter he is slow to attack, preferring to assess situations unseen, and avoid conflict if at all possible.

~*~

Equipment  
Though his equipment constantly changes throughout his many travels, Azareth always carries his Daedric Dagger, Netch Leather Armor with goggles and a notebook in which he records his travels, hoping someday his escapades will be of interest

Spells  
Calm humanoid, Light, Sanctuary, Absorb Magicka, Detect Enchantment, Water Walking, Levitation, Shield, Spark, Lightning

~*~

Family of Note

Oressa S’thul (mother)  
Drevyn S’thul (father)

Elyzara Gaerford (Significant other, later in life)

~*~

Life is often times a struggle for the citizens of Tamriel, and the life of Azareth S’Thul is no exception. Born in the remote fishing village of Hla Oad on the notoriously volcanic island of Vvardenfell, he grew up knowing struggle, even when working your hardest. When born, though the stars shone bright that night, no stars turned upon him in good faith, and he received no blessing from the heavens above. 

As the years passed, Azareth grew more aware of his deficit. He often wondered why the stars had not shone upon him, but he knew it was a futile question, for no mortal could comprehend the will of Aetherius. The other villagers often muttered it being the fault of his mother’s as she had dabbled in dark magicks in the past. When he confronted his mother about this, she avoided the question, as well as his gaze. Despite him asking several times, she never addressed the question, but he never saw any reason to believe his mother was anything but a typical commoner. She had aging grey sin and white hair that she wore in a braid tucked behind her pointy ears. She wore simple peasant's clothes, and did chores around the village for money. It was impossible to picture her as a purveyor of dark magic as she was sometimes described.

Azareth grew up in relative isolation, Hla Oad was small, and there were no other children his age. This isolation resulted in a distant, rather cold personality, though he wasn’t heartless, as he cared deeply for both of his parents, and even the other villagers. Though there were villages nearby, the swamps of the Bitter Coast were dangerous, even too dangerous to travel on the road, so Azareth chose to stick within the relative safety of the village shacks. 

Azareth spent his early years fishing, along with many other villagers, but in his spare time, he took up journaling, as well as the practicing of magic. He grew proficient in the arts of Illusion and Mysticism specifically. As he matured his fascination with the stars grew insurmountable, and he was driven mad by the little information he was able to procure. In 3E 374 at the age of twenty, he made his way to the larger settlement of Ald’Ruhn in order to seek more knowledge on these elusive subjects. The journey was difficult, as the swamps were a mystery to him, as were the harrowing Ashlands in which Ald’Ruhn sits.

His efforts did prove fruitful though, as he was able to procure a few books on his difficult subject: The Lunar Lorkhan, The Anuad Paraphrased and The Wild Elves. However, he had handed almost his entire coinpurse to Codus Callonus in the exchange. 

He headed back to the local inn where he spent hours that dragged deep into the night copying the text of each of the books into a notebook he carried. The next day he made the trek back to Hla Oad, which proved to be just as painstaking as the trek from. On weary feet he arrived back home, where he spent the next five years in deep study of these texts, mapping the stars, honing his combat and survival skills and stocking up on equipment. His studies showed him quickly that the answers to what he sought were not on Vvardenfell, but perhaps buried in the ruins of the Ayleids.

To the dismay of his parents, he spent all of his funds from fishing on his plans, no longer helping out at home. In 3E 379 before Azareth felt truly ready, his parents kicked him out of the family home. It was then where he chose to start his adventure, making his way to Seyda Neen for passageway across the Inner Sea. 

When he arrived in the Stonefalls he was greeted by a very alien world, filled with choking ash and searing fire. Though this was only a step in his journey, if he was to learn more of the mystery behind the stars he would have to make his way into Cyrodiil. Again, Azareth found himself fishing off of the coast in order to fund his campaign. He lived in a room in local inns when he could afford it. After living in nameless coastal towns for years, traveling with the work as it came, eventually finding himself a copy of Spirit of Nirn, God of Mortals. He was originally overjoyed at the opportunity to continue his research, but soon dismayed that the text offered him little-more than he already knew.

[Against his better judgement, and out of sheer frustration, Azareth chose to journey across Morrowind’s fiery landscape in order to scale the Valus Mountains, which on a clear day he was able to see from whatever town he was in. The next morning after sleeping slumped against a building, Azareth was off.

The Journey proved more difficult than expected, the landscape was harsh, and the settlements sparse and poorly stocked. The landscape was dotted with volcanoes, not unlike Red Mountain, and the flames spilling out of Nirn lit Azareth’s way at night. It was weeks until he faced the steep slopes of the mountains, with the peaks soaring up to scratch the sky above. He had second thoughts, but with the nearest town so far behind and perhaps the answers to what he was looking for lay on the other side, he soon found himself knee deep in snow.

The mountains proved the most difficult, having grown up on Vvardenfell, in temperate swamps, Azareth had only heard of snow before, and he had never felt cold like this, and probably wouldn’t have believed you if you had told him once could be so cold a year ago. Though it was miserable, at the mountain’s peak, Azareth saw the smoke from Red Mountain, billowing up and becoming indiscernible from the silver clouds. He felt a strange homesickness, and remained at the peak of the mountain for several days despite the bitter cold, if only to soak in one last image of his home.

On his last night on the peak, a nasty storm rolled in, and he felt himself barrelling down the slopes of the mountain in complete darkness. As he flailed, he soon felt his feet hit the soft spring of grass, and he knew he had made it into Cyrodiil. Another land alien to the native Dunmer, with miles of lush forests and rolling plains; to be in a world so foreign with his homeland right over the crest of the mountains, was so tantalizing.

Though Azareth had made it to Cyrodiil, he was alone, with no map, and no clue where he was. He found himself desperately wandering through the expansive wilds of Cyrodiil. Happening to stumble upon one Ayleid ruin in his frantic meanderings, he ran inside overjoyed at his luck, only to be chased out by zombies, one of which he swore didn't have a head. 

Only his skill at fishing kept him alive, as there are many rivers and streams in the Empire’s Heartland that are teeming with game. Azareth soon tired of fish however, and damned whoevers choice it was not to breed kwama in Cyrodiil, it would have been so easy for him to slip inside and egg mine and steal some! Alas, it seemed to be weeks until he found a road, and he followed it to the Nibenese City of Cheydinhal.

The bustling city proved to be more of a home for him, boasting many a-Dunmer, and even Dunmeri style architecture. Upon arriving at the city, he collapsed, awaking a few days later in a dusty room in the Inn. An old Imperial woman told him that his “exposure” (whatever that meant) had nearly cost him his life, and it HAD cost him several of his toes.

“Were you up in the mountains Deary?”  
The old woman asked.

Azareth remained silent for a moment.  
“Yes, Yes I was. But only so I could cross into this country and find out why my fate was not scryed in the stars at my birth!”  
He flourished dramatically, but the old woman remained unphased.

“Well that’s all fine,” she said “But you know the guard take people through the mountain pass all the time?” 

~*~

As the years went on Azareth quickly learned not to take himself for such a fool. The wilds were dangerous, and the ruins he sought even moreso. He trained not only his mind this time (able to obtain a copy of the Firament) but he also found himself embracing a familiar trade, fishing along the Reed River. He was often surrounded by the untamed wilds of the Niben Basin, so as he worked, he trained as well. As he pushed himself further and further from Cheydinhal, he found himself more and more capable, as he made the trek to and from his fishing sites. Eventually camping out in the wilderness and encountering wildlife. Some years later, after his confidence was built, he followed the tributary down to the Corbolo and searched the muddy banks for the Beast Stone, an enigma he had heard whispered about in town. 

Once he found it, he placed his hand upon it and felt nothing. But that was to be expected. He spent the day and night researching it, camping at its base; but his efforts yielded more questions than answers, as the stone refused to give up its secrets. 

Some months later, once again he found himself venturing into the wilds to make his way to the Ayeid ruin of Vahtacen. After being disappointed by sealed doors and further secrets, he stowed off into the night, raiding every ruin he could find along the road. 

In 3E 392 the ragged Dunmer turned up at the gates of Bruma, aged beyond his years, but with a large collection of Welkynd Stones… and even some Varla stones. 

However, though his ruin diving had brought him great fortune, he, like many scholars, was being evaded by the many questions that plagued his mind so

In Bruma, he sold his loot and managed to find some peace. The Nords wouldn’t speak to him, and he was able to focus on his studies. He ventured into the cold often to dive into another ruin, not needing to for loot, as he was already quite wealthy; he soon grew into weariness as he let the cold of Bruma sink into his skin. He spent years shuffling about the town, thinking there was little more to be learned, until a traveler came into the inn while he was happening to procure a drink. He woke up the next morning with a bad hangover, hardly remembering a thing, but was lucky to see that he had scribbled down the words-

MANTELLA  
ZURIN  
HIGH ROCK

Without the slightest clue of what these works meant, in 3E 470 Azareth found himself bound for High Rock and what possible answers lay there. 

And that is where his story beings….

~*~


End file.
